A Matter of Justice
by SecretSongbird
Summary: Duncan finds Kenny injured, scared and apparently alone.  Kenny's attitude is very un-Kenny like and when Duncan finds out the reason why, he is determined to find the culprits all while helping Kenny to heal.
1. Kenny Returns

_Author's Note: A first foray into the Highlander world. Reviews will determine if this story continues. Kenny will be slightly out of character for now but I had always wondered if he truly escaped all the immortals he tried to con with his innocent act. _

Chapter 1: Kenny Returns

_Disclaimer: While I am borrowing many of the characters in the Highlander world all rights to those characters remain solely with the original creator(s). I am neither receiving nor soliciting any monetary recompense for this story._

Duncan sighed as he felt the familiar buzz of two immortals close by. He was on his morning run as was his habit, and had decided to modify his route for a change of view. The run took him down the road that would normally lead to the docks but in this case, took him past a row of townhouses that, while empty now, would be occupied by the seasonal tourists in a couple of months. The sun was making its way above the horizon, its rays bringing the gently lapping waves into view. He hadn't had a challenge or even felt the presence of another immortal in nearly a month, a change he enjoyed.

He was nearly back to his car having nearly finished the loop he had mapped out a few days prior. His eyes scanned the area, looking for the immortal, even as he reached the car, unlocked and opened the door, he glanced down to make sure his ever present katana was handy, then casually started his post run stretching, his eyes constantly scanning. He didn't have long to wait.

A tall man wearing the typical long coat that immortals favored came out of the waning shadows of the end townhouse nearest the area where Duncan had parked and walked quickly towards Duncan, drawing a sword even as he approached, intent clear in his eyes. The man slowed slightly when Duncan turned, grabbed the katana and turned back just as quickly, well before the immortal got close, the gleaming blade of the katana flashing in the rising sunlight. Increasing his speed again, the immortal raised his blade, taking a ready stance even as he said "Jerrol Flynn." Duncan brought up the katana in a parody of a salute. "Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod," Duncan gave his standard challenge acceptance and waited for Flynn to make the first move.

The fight that ensued was nearly evenly matched and took them into the shadows behind the townhouse. Even though they were trading blow for blow with no real advantage on either side, Duncan had slightly better reflexes. A wide sweeping blow from Flynn meant to take his head missed when he ducked down and Flynn was momentarily taken off balance as his speed carried his arm further than intended, slowing his return to a defensive posture. Duncan took advantage of the deadly mistake, returned to his full height in a flash and finished the fight.

Breathing heavily, Duncan stood up straight, his eyes closed for a moment as he steadied himself after the quickening only to feel the presence of another immortal. He opened his eyes, automatically bringing up his sword and scanned the area again. Fortunately, the normal weakness after a quickening was fading. Not seeing anyone, he continued to glance around and his gaze fell on the open back door of the townhouse. Cautiously, his sword in a ready position, he made his way to the door, stepping to the side to use the house as a barrier and glancing through the un-curtained window into what looked like a den or small living room. Angling his head, he didn't see anyone near the door but using caution, he stepped in front of the opening of the door and leading with his sword, stepped inside, braced for an attack. All was quiet and after verifying the room was clear, he made his way through the house. A sound to his right had him turning that way, his sword up and ready. He was getting tired of the cat and mouse game and the irritation showed in his voice.

"If you're meaning to play than come out instead of skulking about like a ghost," Duncan taunted. There was no answering voice, no one appearing but Duncan detected a slight movement in what appeared to be a closet. Moving towards it, he could see the door was just barely cracked open. He used the tip of his sword to push the door further open, fully expecting an attack when he heard what he could only describe as a whimper. He glanced in…and down, and then stepped fully into the open doorway.

Crouched in the corner, an arm wrapped protectively over their head, trembling and crying, was what appeared to be a child. Male or female Duncan couldn't tell but he realized this was the immortal he had felt. Groaning inwardly, he imagined this was a new immortal and his protective instincts kicked in.

"Hey there," he said gently, crouching down but not reaching out just yet. "I'm Duncan. It looks kinda cramped in there and uncomfortable. Why don't you come out so we can talk a bit. No one is going to hurt you."

The figure in the closet slowly lowered its arm and lifted its head and Duncan's eyes went wide as he quickly stood, his sword again at the ready as he swore in Gaelic.

This was no new immortal child, it was Kenny.

"Get out here," Duncan growled, his voice hard and cold as he looked at the 800 year old immortal forever stuck in a 10-year old child's body. The body might have been small but Kenny had survived 800 years as an immortal, luring unsuspecting and kind hearted immortals into taking him in, then he would repay their kindness by taking their head. He had tried it with Duncan, twice, and had failed. Duncan had sworn after the second time that he wouldn't be taken in again.

"Don't push me Kenneth," Duncan continued. "Get out here now before I decide to put you out of my misery and take your head myself."

Duncan's brow furrowed a bit in confusion when the boy didn't move, only cringed further into the closet, his arm back over his head. Kenny had never been the quiet type, his temper, as well as foul and sarcastic mouth, had always been ready with a reply. He had never been one to hide once his true persona was known and Kenny was well acquainted with Duncan; this act simply wasn't necessary.

Running out of patience Duncan leaned over simply grabbing Kenny's arm and hauling the kid out even as the boy emitted a near scream. Startled, Duncan dropped the boy's arm, glanced down, and froze. Kenny was cradling his arm and was doubled over it in a protective manner his other hand under the arm in support. Duncan put a gentle but firm hand under Kenny's chin, lifting it, and he took a deep breath. The boy's face was battered and bruised, his right eye nearly swollen shut. His right wrist was obviously broken and from the looks of it, the shoulder was dislocated as well. Kenny was trembling, tears making tracks on the dirty face. The boy was stick thin and his clothes were ripped and as equally filthy as his face. Duncan's heart shuddered. Putting his sword down, but keeping it nearby, he crouched down in front of Kenny, bringing his hand up to gently brush the hair back from Kenny's eyes, only to once again freeze as Kenny flinched away in fear.

"Easy now," Duncan said gently. "I'm sorry lad, it wasn't my intention to hurt you. Kenny, what happened to you?" Duncan asked, even as he began to examine the boy. The bruises on the boy's face would heal easily enough and after a quick examination, the wrist wouldn't be a problem but the shoulder would have to be put back into place before the healing would have any effect. Running his hands over the boy with practiced efficiency, he could detect no other major injuries that would need attention to help the healing process along. Realizing he hadn't gotten an answer, he looked at Kenny's pale face and once again, slowly, raised his hand and gently cupped the boy's face, wiping absently at the tears that continued to fall. He had seen this boy boiling mad, acting like an angel, snarling like a tiger and swearing like a sailor; he had never seen him show any sign of weakness, beyond what Kenny wanted someone to see, and he had certainly never seen the boy in actual tears; he was, to say the least, stunned. Duncan could already see signs the healing process was working as a few of the bruises had already faded and the swelling around Kenny's eye was nearly gone though Kenny remained still and silent even as the trembling continued.

"I need to get that shoulder back into place or it won't heal properly," he said as he positioned his hands. "I'm sorry lad, this isn't going to be hurt something fierce but it'll be over quick," Duncan said gently and with a quick jerk the shoulder popped back into place. Kenny cried out, his knees buckling. Only Duncan's quick support kept him from landing on the floor.

Duncan helped Kenny over to a couch, sat him down and placing some of the decorative pillows at one end, encouraged Kenny to lie down. He rose but Kenny grasped his hand even as he closed his eyes. Duncan sat on the edge of the couch and simply waited, monitoring the progress of the healing. It was nearly an hour later when the healing was finished and the boy's face was now back to its normal size, though still filthy and tear streaked. Kenny opened eyes that were no longer swollen but were drooping in fatigue and Duncan did a quick check to make sure the wrist and shoulder had healed. Knowing he couldn't leave the boy alone in this state, he stood up and by way of his grip on Kenny's still trembling hand, helped him to sit up and then urged him to stand, keeping a hold of him until he was sure Kenny was steady.

"Let's get out of here so we can talk," Duncan said, picking up his sword and walking to the open door, concerned that Kenny had yet to utter a word. He was surprised; again, when Kenny slipped his hand into his but just gave it a gentle squeeze as he walked Kenny to the car and settled him in the passenger seat. Kenny simply turned his head to the window, not paying any attention to Duncan. Getting in himself after putting the katana back behind the seat, Duncan drove them to the do-jo.

Duncan pulled into his private parking spot behind the dojo, turned off the ignition and glanced over at Kenny. "C'mon Kenny. I think a bath and breakfast is in order," Duncan said, getting little more than a shoulder shrug out of the boy. Duncan desperately wanted to know what had happened to Kenny but figured it could wait a bit. It was obvious the boy was exhausted and sleep probably wouldn't be too far behind once he managed to get food into the boy. He guided Kenny up the stairs, though Kenny had been here before, and opening the private door to the apartment above the dojo, ushered Kenny inside.

"Bathroom is to your right there," Duncan said. "Why don't you go in and shower while I get breakfast going. Everything you need is on the shelf." Kenny just nodded and made his way into the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind him. Duncan moved into the kitchen and began putting together a light breakfast. From what he had seen, he doubted Kenny had eaten recently and anything too heavy or rich was likely to make him sick. A thought occurred to him and he snagged one of his clean sweatshirts out of his dresser. It would swamp the kid but it would have to do until he could wash and mend the boy's clothing, or buy more.

Duncan turned when he heard the door open and had to grin as Kenny came out swamped in one of Duncan's terry cloth robes. The boy had rolled the sleeves up but there wasn't much he could do about the length and the hem trailed behind him. His feet were bare, but at least he was clean, his blonde hair still damp. Duncan walked over and handed him the shirt. "It'll be too big but might be better than trying to keep from tripping on that robe. Use the belt from the robe to wrap the shirt so it fits better. I'll wash and see what I can do about your own clothes until we can find something else. Breakfast is ready so come on out when you are done." Taking the shirt, again, without a word, Kenny turned back to the bathroom. He came out a few minutes later, the shirt formed at his waist with the belt from the robe and reaching all the way down to the boy's knees. 'About the same length as a kilt' Duncan thought to himself.

Duncan gestured sat at the table and gestured towards the empty chair. "Have a seat. I made some toast, scrambled eggs, and there is some fruit there if you want it." He watched as Kenny moved slowly to the table, sat down and then paused, looking at Duncan, waiting…'for what' Duncan thought. "Go ahead," he said gently, holding out the plate of toast. Kenny reached for a slice, then stopped, again looking at Duncan. Confused, but not showing it, Duncan simply nodded, letting out a breath when Kenny finally took a slice and took a small bite. "Let me have your plate," Duncan said, adding a small helping of eggs when Kenny held up the plate. "Plenty more if you want some; don't hesitate to take more," Duncan smiled at him. Kenny simply turned his attention to his plate, eating slowly, taking hesitant bites and glancing up at Duncan every so often. Finishing his own breakfast, Duncan stood up, filled a small glass with milk and put it beside Kenny's plate then sat back down and waited for Kenny to finish. It seemed to take forever but finally, Kenny cleaned what little had been on his plate and to Duncan's surprise, actually drank the milk without a murmer. The last time Duncan had tried to get him to drink milk Kenny had thrown it, and the glass, at him along with some few choice words about where he could stuff his milk. "Do you want some more?" Duncan asked him, sighing as Kenny just shook his head and returned his gaze to the table; what was wrong with the kid?

"Kenny, look at me," Duncan said, his voice firm but gentle. Kenny looked up, his eyes wary. "What happened?" Duncan asked.

"N-Nuthin', I-I don' wanna talk 'bout it I'm tired," Kenny finally responded with just a hint of the sullen attitude Duncan was accustomed to hearing from Kenny.

Duncan regarded Kenny, debating whether or not to push and made the decision that maybe the kid would be more willing to cooperate after some sleep.

"OK, we can talk later but we ARE going to talk. C'mon, you can lie down for a bit," he added, standing up and gesturing towards the bed. Kenny stood up and walked over towards the bed, Duncan close behind. Pulling the covers back, Duncan waited until Kenny crawled in and then pulled the covers back over him, then sat down on the side of the bed. "You're safe here Kenny, you do know that right?" Duncan asked. To Duncan's shock, he got his answer when Kenny suddenly sat up and all but launched himself at Duncan, wrapping his arms tightly around Duncan's waist and crying wildly against his chest. At a complete loss but quickly recovering, Duncan put his arms around the boy, holding him tight, soothing the boy by rubbing his back and running his fingers down the boy's hair.

"Here now what's this?" Duncan asked, beginning to rock Kenny slightly. "It's OK lad, you're safe. Nothing is going to hurt you here. Easy now."

It took some time but eventually, Kenny's tears eased but when Duncan tried to get him to lie back down, Kenny only grabbed him tighter.

"OK, I'll stay here for a bit then," Duncan said softly, "sleep now."

Fifteen minutes later, Duncan laid the sleeping Kenny back on the bed, covering him with the blankets. Looking down at him, Duncan asked softly "what happened to you?"

Thinking for a moment, he had an idea and stepping away, he went to the phone to call Joe.


	2. Kenny's Story

_Author's Note: This is a double chapter that I am posting as one; I couldn't find a good breaking point. Also, w__hat I did not put in the first chapter was that this story ignores the real events at the end of Season 5 and Richie is still alive. After Ahriman's defeat, Duncan returns to the US._

_**Content Warning: Language and reference to spanking.**_

Chapter 2: Kenny's Story

_Disclaimer: While I am borrowing many of the characters in the Highlander world all rights to those characters remain solely with the original creator. I am neither receiving nor soliciting any monetary recompense for this story._

Duncan idly looked at the clock, standing up and making his way over to the boy currently occupying his bed as the kid began to stir. It was nearly 2 in the afternoon and Kenny had slept for almost 6 hours though it hadn't been an easy sleep. He had woken up due to a nightmare after a couple of hours and it had taken Duncan nearly a half hour to get him settled again. Still, if he slept any longer, Duncan doubted he would be able to get him to sleep that night.

He sat on the chair he had pulled to the side of the bed and simply waited for Kenny to wake up by himself. Though seemingly comfortable with Duncan's presence once he was awake and aware, there was a wariness and even fear in his eyes during that initial lack of full awareness. It seemed Kenny was really waking up this time and not just shifting in his sleep as Duncan saw his eyes open; Kenny's reaction was nothing less than instinctive as he saw Duncan, opened his eyes wide and scrambled back to the opposite side of the bed, nearly toppling over the other side.

"Kenny," Duncan said, as he watched the boy's wild eyes finally focus. "It's OK."

It took a minute but the tenseness is Kenny's shoulders eased a bit even as he disentangled himself from the bed clothing and got out of the bed on the opposite side to where Duncan was seated. Duncan never took his eyes off him, waiting to see what Kenny was going to do.

Duncan gestured to the trunk that sat on the floor at the foot of the bed.

"Your clothes were pretty much toast so I had Richie bring some over for you. It isn't much but they will get you by until we can get some more."

"I don't wan' nothing from you MacLeod. Just let me outta' here," Kenny replied with a sneer, sounding more like himself.

'Well,' Duncan thought. 'It's an improvement but not exactly the one I was looking for.'

Clenching his jaw just the slightest bit at Kenny's rudeness, he picked up the clothes and held them out.

"If you want to keep parading around in that shirt without the benefit of shoes or shorts feel free, but you might find it a bit chilly out on the street."

Kenny's jaw tightened as he looked down at himself, having forgotten how he was dressed. Bringing his head back up, he glared at Duncan before snatching the clothes out of his hand and stomping off towards the bathroom.

"You're welcome," Duncan muttered.

Kenny came out a few minutes later, dressed in the jeans and sweatshirt Duncan had gotten Richie to pick up and bring over. Both items were a little big on Kenny's small frame but were certainly better than Duncan's shirt; Kenny's feet were bare.

"Shoes and socks are on the trunk," Duncan said, gesturing towards the end of the bed from behind the counter in the small kitchen. Kenny padded over, sat on the trunk and started pulling on the sports socks and simple sneakers. Glancing over, he watched Duncan.

Feeling the boy's gaze, Duncan looked up.

"Just fixing some lunch for you," Duncan explained. "I ate earlier but you must be hungry."

Kenny stood up but didn't move otherwise. His blue eyes blazed a bit at Duncan as he responded, fists clenched at his sides. "I don' need you making me anything. I just want to leave."

"Well," Duncan said, "I seem to remember saying we were going to talk and you aren't leaving before that. Plenty of time to get where you might want to go. Still, I do think it will be better if you stay here, at least for tonight. Going to be nasty out tonight if the weather report is anything to go by. If you are going to be here for a while, you might as well eat," and smirked when Kenny's stomach gave a low rumble. "It's not much, some soup and a small sandwich; should hold you over until you get where you are going." Duncan walked around the island counter and set the plate on the table, then turned back and reached for a bowl, placing it on the table next to the plate. "C'mon" Duncan said.

Kenny just stared for a moment, debating. Then, after a short war with himself, and thankfully ignoring the smirk on Duncan's face, he made his way over to the table and sat down, grabbed the sandwich and took a huge bite before taking up a spoonful of the soup, making Duncan wince as he slopped it over the side of the bowl in his haste, and noisily slurped the warm liquid. Kenny had to admit, if only to himself, that the soup was good, a chicken something or other he guessed.

"Slow down," Duncan said, unable to stand Kenny's table manners for more than a minute, stepping over and putting his hand on Kenny's arm to try and stop more soup from hitting the table and floor even as Kenny took yet another almost anxious bite of the sandwich. "The food isn't going anywhere."

Kenny jerked his hand away, knocking the bowl off the table. "Will you just leave me the hell alone MacLeod," the boy shouted at him. "I can manage myself!"

Duncan closed his eyes and took a deep breath in an effort to keep his temper in check. The kid was pushing it, going back to his usual attitude filled ways. While Duncan was well aware something else was below the surface, it didn't make that attitude any easier to ignore and Duncan was only willing to go so far in letting it continue.

"You're table manners are appalling," Duncan said, his voice hard and stern, "and you can lose the attitude as well. I am giving you some room here but I will not tolerate a lack of manners or lack of simple courtesy. You and I have done this twice already so the game is up. I fully expect you to keep a civil tone when speaking to me or I guarantee you won't like the results. Got it?"

"Whatever," Kenny muttered, not really looking at Duncan but Duncan could see enough. He noticed the boy's face was pale and there was a hint of real fear in his eyes; something Duncan couldn't remember seeing in their previous encounters.

"Finish that sandwich," Duncan gestured to the plate, his voice firm. "Do you want more soup?"

Kenny just shook his head.

As Kenny finished what was on his plate, Duncan picked up the bowl and proceeded to clean up the mess, gritting his teeth when Kenny just got up from the table after he finished eating and walked over to the couch to sit down without bothering to try and help. He started to order Kenny back to help with the cleanup and then changed his mind. Time enough for that type of war; he had a feeling that the talk he intended to have with Kenny as soon as he was done cleaning up was going to be hard enough to handle for one afternoon.

Duncan made short work of the cleanup and then walked over to sit in the chair across from where Kenny was seated. Kenny was flipping through a magazine as though thoroughly engrossed, doing his best to ignore Duncan, but, Duncan had to smile; that particular magazine was in Gaelic, sent to him from Rachel, and he knew Kenny didn't know the language. Reaching over, Duncan gently turned the magazine right side up, earning a glare over the top from Kenny.

"OK Kenny, no more stalling. I want to know what happened to you," Duncan said.

"Apparently you've gone deaf in your old age MacLeod," Kenny sneered. "I told ya' earlier that nuthin' happened and I don' wanna talk about it" Kenny finished, as he stood up and tried to push past Duncan. Duncan simply reached out and snagged the boy's arm in a firm but gentle grip. Maintaining his hold on Kenny's arm, Duncan stood, using his height and closeness to intimidate, just a bit. Leaning down, he looked Kenny in the eye and said in a soft and firm tone:

"You know and I know that it wasn't "nothing" that happened. I find you cowering, near starved, crying," Kenny grimaced, "covered in bruises with a broken wrist. Prior to that, I have to fight some guy who comes out of nowhere, right next to the building in which you are hiding, a building with a back door left wide open. Coincidence..I doubt it. Start talking."

Kenny jerked his arm free and glared up at Duncan, his bravado fading just a bit as Duncan towered over him. Glancing around, Kenny bit his lip as he tried to judge his chances of making it to the door. Duncan just crossed his arms across his chest and waited; he could see what Kenny was thinking. "Do it," Duncan warned, "and I'll haul you back and make you regret making me come after you."

"Why the hell do you care," Kenny groused, "I've tried to take your head twice, would have if Amanda hadn't interfered last time."

"Maybe I'm just curious…spill it."

Kenny started walking away and Duncan tensed, ready to go after him, after a moment he realized Kenny was just pacing.

"Flynn, the guy you fought, was the one that found me, in the same spot where you found me. He was like everyone else, all 'poor kid let me help you and take care of you' sappy," here Kenny snorted. "I lasted about 3 days and then I was just itching for his head just to shut him up. I almost had him when he turned around. He almost took my head, changed his mind at the last second and just smacked the back of my head with the flat of his sword. Then he decided to get his own version of revenge. He tied me up and beat the crap outta me, then he left me alone. After a few hours, when I healed, he repeated the process. I became his personal house slave then, cleaning and being a substitute for his personal punching bag. Any time he decided I wasn't working fast enough or just not working enough to satisfy him he'd beat me again. At some point he got tired of playing as a single and brought in two others; they followed Flynn's example" Duncan could hear the shakiness in Kenny's voice now, see the slight trembling that had taken hold of him.

"Names?" Duncan asked.

"Does it matter MacLeod?" Kenny sneered. "what'a ya gonna' do, shake their hands?"

Duncan's jaw tightened and he ignored Kenny's statement with great effort.

"Names," Duncan repeated, his voice hard as he grabbed Kenny's arm, spinning him to face him.

"They never said," Kenny said, not looking at Duncan and trying to pull free; "I don't know, let me go."

Duncan used his free hand to grasp Kenny's chin, lifting it firmly until Kenny was forced to meet his eyes.

"Did I mention lying isn't an option here?" Duncan growled. "Try again."

Duncan watched as Kenny warred with himself and was actually surprised when Kenny gave in.

"I didn't hear first names," Kenny muttered resentfully, dropping his gaze to somewhere around Duncan's shoulder. "Flynn called them Hanson and Jarvis."

"Look at me Kenny," Duncan ordered, his voice still hard and stern and waited as Kenny slowly obeyed.

"I have a way to verify those names and I'll know if you lied to me. Are you sure those are the names?"

Kenny just sighed, nodded; Duncan let go of his arm.

"How long were you there?" Duncan asked next. "I kinda' lost track," Kenny answered, "I did!" he said resentfully when Duncan scowled at him. "A couple of weeks maybe. It's not like Flynn and the others kept me up to date with the current events."

"Ditch the attitude Kenny; last warning. "

"Yeah, whatever," Kenny muttered his favorite response. Duncan closed his eyes and counted, in Mandarin. When he was pretty certain he wouldn't strangle Kenny, not right at that second anyway, he opened his eyes again.

"I have to go out for a while; Richie is going to come over and stay with you until I get back. You are not to step foot out of this loft."

"I don't need a damned babysitter," Kenny groused.

"Just making sure you'll be here when I get back," Duncan countered his focus shifting slightly as he felt the familiar immortal buzz. "That'll be him now."

Even so, Duncan stood in front of Kenny facing the elevator, close to his sword but not actually picking it up even as he noticed Kenny stepping back behind the couch. Duncan visibly relaxed when Richie lifted the front protective cage and stepped out.

"Hey Mac," Richie greeted, eying Kenny. Mac had given him the basics when Richie had dropped off the clothing but Richie still didn't trust that the little brat wasn't faking it…again.

Duncan sighed. He knew full well it be a miracle if the two were alive when he got back but he didn't want to take Kenny with him and he was pretty sure Kenny would beat feet if left alone.

He grabbed his coat and tossed it over his arm, then turned to his two visitors. "Play nice you two. Richie, no taking Kenny's head and Kenny, same goes. Fridge is full if you get hungry but clean up after yourselves. I had better find the both of you still breathing, or at least still in possession of your respective heads, when I get back or the one leftover won't like my reaction. Keep the place neat; I won't be long. Kenny, you are not to leave the loft." He shot a warning glare at Kenny and gave the same look to Richie, who grimaced in acknowledgement, then, only somewhat confident the two of them wouldn't actually kill each other, walked to the elevator and rode it down to the floor of the dojo.

_Joe's Bar_

Duncan strode into Joe's bar, immediately making his way to the table where Joe was sitting with Methos.

"Mac!" Joe greeted, signaling to one of the circling waitresses, "about time you stopped in."

"Just ice water, thank you," Duncan told the waitress as she came up, then turned to Joe and Methos. "Been busy. Anne had a seminar so I was doing some house maintenance for her and looking after Mary for a few hours in the afternoon. Mary is walking now and manages to find everything she isn't supposed to."

"You, uh, trying to finagle a way into the house on a permanent type basis?" Joe asked with a smile.

Duncan sighed. "My time with Anne was done a long time ago Joe but we are still friends."

"When did you get back?" Duncan asked Methos.

"A few days ago. Word has it you had yourself an adventure this morning."

Duncan sat down, nodding in thanks as the waitress brought over a tray with a pitcher of ice water and a glass and set it down in front of him. Pouring a glass, Duncan gave Joe and Methos an abridged version of his encounter with Flynn, his subsequent discovery of Kenny and the basics of what Kenny had told him. Methos snorted in disbelief; Joe just looked skeptical.

"Take his miserable head MacLeod and save everyone else the trouble" Methos countered. "He's been lying for so long he wouldn't know the truth if he tripped over it."

Before Duncan could respond, Joe interrupted.

"The last time you ran into Kenny he almost took your head…..again. What makes you think he isn't just working another scam on you?" Joe asked. "Rope you in with his sob story, make you feel sorry for him then the moment you turn your back, he's slicing off your head with your own sword."

Duncan rubbed his face with both hands and let out a breath. "I know what you are both thinking but this time, this was different. He wasn't just hiding, he was cowering and there was no mistaking his injuries. I've seen Kenny's fake tears before and what I saw this morning wasn't fake. He was shaking like a leaf and scared half to death. He was back more to his usual self when he woke up but there is something there, something he didn't have before. Joe, I need you to check for me, check on this Jarvis and Hanson, see if you can identify them."

"And if I do find them?" Joe queried with a lift of his eyebrow.

"I don't know yet," Duncan said honestly. "If Kenny is being truthful, as I think he is this time, he was essentially willfully and deliberately tortured for over two weeks. I don't care what he did or tried to do, no one deserves that and three adults on a child" here Methos snorted again, Duncan glared at him and continued, "is far from fair and I don't care that Kenny IS 800 years old. He still has the size and emotions of the child he was when he became immortal."

Joe sighed. "Alright MacLeod, I'll see what I can come up with, do some digging with their respective watchers; I'll give you a call. "

Nodding to the two, Duncan made his way outside. The rain the forecast had promised had started and Duncan glanced up in mild irritation before making his way to the car and driving back to the dojo.

He was happy to see that the building was still standing as he pulled into his private parking spot. Foregoing the stairs that led to the private entrance, Duncan decided to go through the dojo and take the elevator up. As he walked through, making sure the workout area was at least tidy, he checked the locks and then went to the elevator. As the elevator started to lift, he felt the expected double immortal buzz and as he stepped out of the elevator, found Kenny sitting in a chair in one corner of the room, his arms crossed and pouting, and Richie on the couch, watching a movie of some sort, his socked feet comfortably propped up on the coffee table and his sword by his side; obviously things hadn't gone smoothly.

"Rich, that's a table, not a footstool," he scolded mildly.

"Sorry," Richie mumbled as he dropped his feet to the floor. "Find out anything?"

"Nothing conclusive as yet; Joe's working on it." Duncan glanced again at Kenny's pouting form. "You two get into a problem?"

Richie glared over at Kenny, who glared right back. "Nothing I couldn't handle," Richie said derisively. "The runt tried to leave when I went to the bathroom. I caught him down in the dojo and hauled his little butt back up here."

"The bastard threatened to kill me," Kenny yelled, standing up, fists balled at his side.

Richie just rolled his eyes and shrugged as Duncan looked at him. "By the time I got downstairs he had one of the Wakizashi's in his hand. I pointed my sword at him, told him to put it back where he found it and that he could come back up on his own or I'd help him. He decided he needed the help so I encouraged his cooperation with my sword tip at his back. When we got back up here, I figured the easiest way to keep an eye on him was to put him somewhere I could see him from anywhere in the room," here Richie grinned. "Corner seems to be the perfect spot for the brat. He hasn't said a word in the last 45 minutes."

Kenny started walking towards them, murder intent in his blue eyes but stopped at Duncan's glare. "I could have sworn I told you that you weren't to step a foot out of this loft did I not?" Duncan asked Kenny; Kenny just scowled in response. Smirking slightly, Duncan walked past him and turned the chair so that it faced the corner and Kenny's mouth dropped open at the glaring intent. Duncan turned back to Kenny.

"You can come back over here and sit back down until dinner is ready. Maybe next time you'll do what you are told."

"No fucking way MacLeod," Kenny yelled, crossing his arms again. "I am not sitting in any damned corner so you can get your jollies!"

Duncan walked back over to him and leaned down. "Two choices here. Sit in the chair until dinner is ready in about a half hour, or go over my knee first and then sit there anyway until I say otherwise. I guarantee the second option won't be nearly as comfortable. Added to that, keep up with that colorful language you seem to like so much and you'll be eating soap."

"You wouldn't," Kenny growled, uncrossing his arms in sheer outrage.

"In a heartbeat," Duncan returned. "You want to act the brat I will be more than happy to treat you like one."

"You said the last time you weren't going to treat me like a kid anymore," Kenny reminded him with a glare of his own.

"Maybe what I should have done was treat you like the kid you are and continue to act like instead of like an 800-yr old in a kid's body," Duncan returned. He pointed to the chair; "sit."

Stomping over to the chair, making his feelings quite well known by his attitude, Kenny yanked the chair back a couple of inches and sat down, crossed his arms again and commenced staring at the wall and mumbling under his breath.

Ignoring the running commentary from the corner, Duncan turned to a grinning Richie. "Stay for dinner?" Duncan asked him pleasantly.

_40 minutes later_

"OK Kenny, you can come out; dinner's ready," Duncan announced.

Kenny jumped out of the chair nearly sending it to the floor in his rush and stomped over to the counter, throwing himself onto the nearest stool. Glancing at the clock just behind Duncan, Kenny groused. "You said a half hour; it was 40 minutes."

Richie just rolled his eyes as he took the stool next to Kenny; Duncan took his place across from the two.

"I said _about_ a half hour, and if your attitude keeps going like it is, you are going to end up back there."

Kenny opened his mouth to retort and then, looking at Duncan's face, decided to keep silent, for once. Scowling, he concentrated on the pasta on his plate, ignoring the conversation between Duncan and Richie.

Once dinner was over, Duncan set Kenny and Richie to cleaning up, surprised that other than a bit of grousing by Kenny, the chore was completed quickly and in relative peace. Richie took his leave an hour or so after, wanting to beat the worst of the rain that was still being forecast. His apartment was only a few minutes away on his bike but riding a motorcycle in a downpour, in the dark, had never been Richie's idea of a good time.

Duncan glanced at the clock when Richie left and noted it was still early, only 7. Still, Kenny had made his way to the couch and was flipping through the channels trying to find something of interest. Leaving Kenny to his own thoughts for the moment, Duncan sat at his desk, powered up his laptop, pulled up his financial statements and buried himself in the numbers.

A couple of hours later, Duncan finished up and glanced over at Kenny, smiling slightly as he noticed Kenny had fallen asleep. Getting up, Duncan gently lifted Kenny into his arms and carried him over to the bed; Kenny never stirred. After taking off the boy's shoes and jeans, Duncan covered him, turned the bedside lamp down to a soft glow and grabbing a book, sat down on the couch to read.

Duncan couldn't say what had woken him but years of protecting his head had him waking alert. His hand automatically went to his Katana that was lying on the floor, picking it up even as he got to his feet. It took only a scant second for him to realize the power was out; the low level track lights he always left on over the kitchen area were dark. He didn't sense anything threatening and all he could hear was the steady ping of rain against the windows. He started a bit as a giant boom of thunder sounded, actually shaking the windows, and the room was lit with a flash of lightning. Turning, he looked again towards the bed; Kenny wasn't in it. Carrying his sword as a precaution, knowing Kenny's penchant for sneaking up on people behind their backs, he made his way over to the bed, stepping cautiously in the darkened room. Another flash of lightning gave him the answer as to where Kenny had gone. Duncan got a short glimpse of Kenny sitting huddled down on the floor, his back to the side of the bed furthest from the windows and his hands over his ears even as he tried to hide his face in his drawn up knees.

Setting the Katana on the bed, Duncan crouched down and touched Kenny's trembling shoulder. "Kenny," he said gently, having to raise his voice slightly to be heard over the ongoing rumbles of thunder.

Kenny raised his head and Duncan's heart lurched. There wasn't an ounce of color in the boy's face which was soaked with tears and he was shaking so hard that Duncan could actually see it. Even as another flash of lightning lit the room, Kenny whimpered and ducked his head again, his hands clamping even tighter over his ears at the next crash of thunder.

Duncan moved his hand to the top of Kenny's head and rested it there for a moment in a gesture of comfort, then taking Kenny's arm in a firm but gentle grip, encouraged Kenny to stand. As soon as Kenny was on his feet, Duncan stepped back and sat on the bed, immediately pulling Kenny onto his lap and wrapping his arms around him in a protective hug. Kenny clung to him, his hands fisted in the t-shirt Duncan had worn to sleep in and his head buried in Duncan's chest as he cried, his body jerking almost violently each time the thunder sounded or the lightning flashed.

Duncan just sat with him, resting his chin on Kenny's head, rubbing his back, talking to him, rocking him, knowing he had to wait it out. Even as he waited, he was thinking. The first time he had met Kenny, he had been ready to protect him, to lead him. The second time, he had been disappointed in Kenny's continued resistance. Now though, Duncan saw an opportunity. Though he had sworn up and down after the second encounter he would never again see Kenny as a vulnerable child, he couldn't help but feel that the changes he was seeing in Kenny now, even if they were temporary, just might allow him to get the kid to understand that living with someone who would protect him, that would allow him to relax instead of constantly running while looking over his shoulder, might just be the better option. Still, it would take some careful handling and a lot of patient persuasion.

It seemed to take forever but the storm finally started moving off, the sound of the thunder fading and there were longer pauses between the flashes of lightning. As the storm moved away, Kenny's shaking eased as did the tears, but, he wasn't making any move to leave the security of Duncan's arms. Duncan didn't force him, feeling Kenny slowly relax. Once Duncan felt the shaking stop, he eased Kenny back, using one hand to brush the hair out of Kenny's eyes; the kid needed a haircut he thought absently. Kenny looked up at him dully, his face having gone from pale to flushed.

"OK now?" Duncan asked gently.

Kenny nodded. Duncan let Kenny stand and then got him back into bed. "I'll be right back," he said.

Duncan went into the bathroom, wet a cloth and grabbed a small glass of water. He handed Kenny the cloth to wipe his face, and when Kenny handed it back, gave him the water. Kenny drank and handed the glass back. Setting the glass and cloth on the table, Duncan sat on the edge of the bed.

"You were here the last time when a storm rolled through and it didn't bother you. What happened?" Duncan asked.

"Flynn and company," Kenny said dully. "They got mad at me for whatever reason and got a little too rough with the beating; I passed out. When I came to, they had handcuffed me to a metal post of some sort out in the middle of a field; they just left me there. What I didn't know until later was that the post was some sort of lightning rod. I tried to get away, stood up trying to get my hands over the top, move the post; the post was too tall and sunk down too deep; I couldn't move it. Tried to pick the lock on the cuffs but before I could manage it a storm started and let's just say the lightning rod lived up to its name. I don't remember much after the first time I got hit or how long I was actually out there. By the time they came back for me the grass and ground around me was blackened and my clothes were gone, burned, I don't know," Kenny said, wiping his hand across his face. He looked up at Duncan, pale again, some more tears leaking out even as his breathing hitched. Duncan took Kenny back into his arms again, rubbing his back, letting Kenny rest against him.

Duncan's jaw tightened as he struggled to keep his temper in check. When he got a hold of Jarvis and Hanson…..who knew how many times Kenny had "died" and revived again back into a situation that would have been terrifying for anyone. Thinking back as he held Kenny, Duncan remembered a series of storms a week or so back. The storms had come one after the other over a period of four hours and the news had reported a lot of damage and a few fires due to lightning strikes.

Duncan pulled away slightly and looked down at Kenny; he could see the kid was calm and obviously exhausted. "Can you get back to sleep now?" he asked, getting a nod in confirmation. Releasing him, Duncan waited for Kenny to lie back down then stood up. "I'll be here if you need me," Duncan told him, touching Kenny's shoulder. Kenny again nodded, his eyes closed, not even noticing when Duncan finally walked away.

The Wakizashi is the Japanese short sword. A pair of these could be seen hanging on the dojo wall and Kenny tried to kill Richie with one when they first met in Season 3.


End file.
